


The Tsar/ina

by temptresslove



Series: Power Couple [10]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Fast Burn lol is that a thing, Fluff, Light Angst, M/M, Mpreg, Romance, Royalty AU, Smut, Tsar Tom Riddle, Tsarina Harry Potter, super light
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-13
Updated: 2020-06-13
Packaged: 2021-03-04 03:48:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,870
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24627283
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/temptresslove/pseuds/temptresslove
Summary: The tsar is bounded by law to pick an omega bride from a small town. Harry knew the tsar will pick Draco. Everybody knew.
Relationships: Draco Malfoy & Harry Potter, Harry Potter/Tom Riddle
Series: Power Couple [10]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1264598
Comments: 50
Kudos: 1927





	The Tsar/ina

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Gwendal_Wincott](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gwendal_Wincott/gifts).



> A gift for [Gwendal_Wincott](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gwendal_Wincott) for giving me copies of my fave deleted fics. HAHAHA. And also for giving me an excuse to call Harry a tsarina. Thanks for giving me an awesome prompt. I said 2-4k words but here we are now with an additional 2k+ words. HAHAHAHA. Thank you for your patience. <3

Draco Malfoy has always known that he would marry the Tsar.

Tsars have often selected an omega from their town since the first town Mayor saved the third Tsar’s life.

Tsars always selected the most high born ones, of course—the ones who came from a good family, who were pretty and wouldn’t adjust too much to the life at the palace. If you were especially beautiful, the were going to be picked.

And Draco Malfoy was especially beautiful. People often said he was like an angel—blonde, pale, blue-eyed. He moved with an otherworldly grace and a face that locals always selected to play their Holy Madonna in holy parades.

Narcissa has groomed him since he could remember.

Everyone knew, of course. Everyone looked at Draco in pity when they thought he couldn’t see, talked about him in sad hushed tones when they thought he couldn’t hear.

He was taught how to manage a household, how to behave properly. All his life he was prepared to marry the king and become their queen.

Draco looks at Harry, who was the only one who still managed to form deep ties with him even though they knew he was going to leave anyway.

Harry smiles at him, a fellow omega, destined to marry some knight or a if he’s lucky maybe a viscount—a simple life with no expectations of greatness, just an ordinary, quiet, noble life. Draco would trade everything he had to have that.

“Are you ready?” Harry was never one to shy away from Draco’s future. Harry wasn’t stupid, nor did he ever look at Draco with pity. He expected it like everyone else… but he still treat Draco normally.

“Yes,” Draco whispers. There was nothing to be scared of. In fact, it was an honor. Only one omega was selected for at least sixty years or less if the King died early. Some never had the chance.

They form a line in the town square—omegas of eligible ages. They are in their best clothes, of course, though they did not even have to try. It was still a respect to the king, and Draco liked to think a respect to him as well. Draco was, after all, saving them…

Draco hears the hooves of horses—loud and clear, knows that this can only belong to the Imperial Carriage.

It stops in front of them, and steps down is a man so handsome, Draco forgot what they were doing there.

He smiles, a charming smile, and there is a murmur across the square.

“Good morning,” he says politely as though he was not going to take a bride from them and choose the kingdom’s next queen and mother.

Draco swallows. He is not so frightening after all.

He is led to the stage, and he goes into a long litany of their history and the privilege he has of selecting his wife in their town… no one believed it from the past kings’ mouths… but when it came from this man… everyone nodded, agreed even. It was a privilege for the kingdom to choose among their good blood—blood of heroes and honest men.

And then he stops and announces that he will pick an omega bride. He goes down the steps and starts looking at the candidates, talking to them, smiling at them.

Draco can feel Harry’s hand tightening on his the same time the king stops in front of them.

He turns to Draco, a gentle smile on his face. “What is your name, sweetheart?” He asks Draco, polite as ever.

Draco swallows. “My name is Draco Malfoy, your high—“ But he didn't get to finish, because the tsar suddenly looks at Harry, his eyes wide.

“You.” He whispers. “You!” He says again, louder this time, appearing to not quite know what to say next. Harry is not smiling. Harry is stubbornly keeping his head up and yet Draco could feel his hands trembling.

A slow smile appears at the king’s face, and Draco doesn’t know if he imagines the flash in his eyes.

“You will be my bride,” The alpha king says, the ever perfect smile present in his face.

The trembling intensifies and Draco can hear Harry whispering “No…”

But the tsar takes Harry’s hand and raises it in the air.

“My people,” he says loudly. “I have found my bride.”

Silence met the tsar’s declaration as everyone stares in open-mouthed confusion.

* * *

“Why, that’s the closest you can be to peasants!”

Harry clinks his heels louder to announce his presence. The courtiers instantly stop talking amongst themselves and curtsy to him, not even looking the least guilty.

Harry knew that coming here meant being face to face with people who were exactly like… like him—the king, the Alpha King, the tsar, the idiot but he didn’t know it would be this bad.

Harry sighs wondering what he did to deserve this.

But he did know exactly what he’s done.

It was three months ago. They were visiting the capital city, and Harry went straight to one of the gambling houses around. He picked the most prestigious looking one. He did look the part, dressed one of his best robes. Then he picked the most expensive looking table.

There were two men and by the looks of it they didn’t know each other.

He shuffles his hair and makes sure he was wearing his glasses then he begins to walk.

He clumsily pulls open a chair. “Oh, pardon me,” he says. He looks at the men in table and wonders if he made the right decision picking this particular table. These men did not play for fun. The older one was wearing spectacles, hunched and hands shaking over his cards. The other one had his chips neatly arranged in front, face expressionless yet handsome.

Something told Harry he should back out now.

“Where’s your chaperone?” The handsome man asks.

Harry swears he wore scent blockers. He looked at the man in the best confused act he could do.

And then he cheated him out of a third of his money.

The man had looked at him with such a dark aura that he stood up and ran away as fast as he could, removing his glasses and changing his gait.

The only thing that comforted him was the clang of silver in his pocket. The feeling makes him smile. No one has ever caught him before. He buys some of the things he’s wanted, but was too shy to ask his parents for, ignoring the nagging feeling in his chest that he just made a dangerous enemy.

So now, he is here, as a cruel punishment no doubt, the wife to the same man he swindled in a gambling house—a tsar.

Yet it did not feel as he always imagined it.

Of course he’s imagined it. You would be a fool if you didn’t. To be picked by the Alpha King, to be his wife, to be a Queen… and to have all the finery and luxury you could never have in their little town. The little trinkets he couldn’t afford back when he was still the baron’s son, Harry.

Has he not dreamed it so? To walk in finery, to have all the riches in the world, and to have servants attending to his every need? Did he not secretly wish that he were pretty as Draco?

But he’s never imagined far. He’s never imagined far because of Draco. Draco, who was so beautiful, that everyone knew he’d be picked. Draco who already looked and moved like the part.

Harry honestly didn’t know what he preferred—to be poor but loved or rich and unwanted?

* * *

It is a few months into their marriage when their kingdom is invaded by the neighboring ones.

It is then that Harry’s husband, who he barely saw after their wedding and barely talked to after their marriage, called him into the Council Room.

Harry enters and is surprised to see himself alone with the alpha.

They were never alone. Even in their bonding ceremony, there were high ranking courtiers outside their bedroom to bear witness to the consummation of their marriage.

This is the first time.

“My beloved Tsar,” Harry says the perfunctory greeting.

The alpha is distracted and when he looks up at Harry, his eyes were almost bloodshot. He wasn't getting any any sleep, this Harry knew. He’d been busy with the invasion threatening to come towards the heart of his Winter palace.

“I need you.” The Tsar says suddenly. It is a word Harry never imagine to come out of his mouth.

“How may I be of service?” He answers again, doing exactly what is expected of him as a wife.

“You must do your duty to the country.” The alpha says, leaning back into his chair. “The succession needs to be secure. The kingdom needs an heir.”

Harry knew that it was coming one way or another. He had been worried as well. This was the first time that a tsarina was without child months after a wedding. But Tom never claimed his spousal right.

There were many reasons why their neighbors chose to attack now. Even the rumors reached Harry’s own court. Tom has just succeeded his father, chosen a young bride who was not even pregnant, who the rumors said did not even share the alpha’s bed. The kingdom was unstable; there was no better way to strike now. The tsar was inexperienced, did not have the calculating intelligence of his father and did not possess the iron fist that his mother had. His seed was weak, unable to impregnate an omega. And the new tsarina… was an ugly small thing who could not even conceive on their bonding.

Harry nods, accepting his duty to his kingdom. He will not shame his family and his town.

If the tsar was surprised by Harry’s obedience, he did not show any sign of it. 

“Good.” Tom nods as well. “But I also need your…” Tom looks at Harry straight in the eye, face unreadable. “Magic.”

* * *

Tom watches the omega as he says word magic. It was taboo, of course. One of the many reasons why the kings and queens of the other kingdoms wanted their kingdom dead. The Slytherin kingdom harbored witches, performed magic and spells like offerings to the devil.

And now they finally had the chance.

Because Tom had been careless. Arrogant. Thought that the rumors of magic would keep them at bay. Thought that his reputation as a ruthless general was enough to scare them. And thought that he could make the omega suffer by letting him go through his heats alone. Even when they were already bonded. Wanted to see that perfect facade break, under his cruelty and the hateful comments of his courtiers. All because the boy had cheated him out of his money. And because the boy was the only other person, other than his mother, who Tom knew who was a witch.

Harry Potter was a witch.

Tom had met him once, before his father died. He was participating in foolishness that youths his age at that time were expected to indulge in. He had been gambling in one of the lesser gambling houses, free from the judgement of his advisors.

The omega appeared out of nowhere in a terrible disguise which fooled no one. He had been wearing scent blockers, Tom knew. But Tom, somehow, still smelled the omega’s scent.

He was without a chaperone. That alone would have unmade the boy.

But Tom was not in the mood. He came to gamble and he was swindled out of half of his money. The boy thought he was being subtle too. Using magic to manipulate the cards to his favor. Tom could barely believe it, wasn’t sure at first. Had to observe the boy again and again until he was sure. He had followed the boy as he went out of the gambling house. But Tom could not not find him. Almost given up.

But to his surprise, the little omega witch, was standing there in that dirty little town where he was forced to pick a bride. The witch was standing there proudly, head held high, dressed in his best clothes. Others would not have recognized him. But Tom would know that face anywhere. And without second thoughts he claimed the boy’s hand in his and proclaimed him his tsarina.

Pride had blinded him.

But perhaps it was still not too late.

The omega does not react and for a moment. Tom thinks he might deny it or that maybe Tom’s suspicion was wrong. Maybe the boy was just naturally good at playing cards.

But Harry nods again. “What will you have me do?”

For a moment, Tom cannot react.

“Go into battle with me.”

“While pregnant?” Harry asks, cocking his head to the side. 

It’s a wonder, as he looks at the tsarina now, how people thought Harry was ugly. Tom could certainly see why. He had an ordinary face that did not merit attention. But it was his eyes that drew you in, green and bright. And the way he carried himself in situations like this. Not once did the omega cry when he was taken into the Imperial Carriage, barely said goodbye to his parents, never to see them again when he became the tsarina. Harry did not cower from the judgmental stares of the nobility, whispering about him behind their feathered fans. And Harry did not fight when Tom took him on their wedding night. He had even seemed eager, arching his back and wrapping his legs around the alpha’s waist as he fucked him. And Harry had not once begged for him in his heats. Harry did not cower from the rumors of not sharing a bed with the tsar.

Harry had borne it all with dignity expected of a tsarina.

“Yes,” Tom says. “No.” He recants. The omega opened his mouth again, no doubt about to say something smart, like he was prone to do just to provoke the alpha. But Tom stopped him before he could talk. “You will be fighting from a distance, protected, and every night I will come to you. But once you are pregnant, I will only call for you when it is absolutely necessary.”

Already, Tom’s cock is reacting to the idea of taking the omega. He could still remember it then, fresh in his mind, the omega biting his lip to keep from being too loud, the smell of slick, the obscene sounds their bodies made, and the tight heat that enveloped him.

Perhaps he should take the omega now. Harry had already agreed to do his duty.

“Yes, Your Highness,” Harry says, dignified even now. He does not even blush.

Tom stands. The omega stays rooted where he is standing. When Tom touches him, he does not flinch. And when Tom experimentally nuzzles at Harry's mating gland, where Tom's bite is, only then does the omega finally react. Harry bites his lip to stop the whine, but his neck bares itself even more. Tom knows that like the first time, there will be no fight.

It would be good to knot him here, let his seed into the omega’s womb, where their scent will remain for hours, until his advisors return. So then they can smell their coupling, and any spy Tom’s enemies may have sent will know that their marriage is real and true.

Tom guides the omega into the strategy table, wrapping his hands around the back of Harry’s thighs, lifting him up and spreading his legs so Tom could settle in between. Harry’s eyes are already half-lidded.

Tom kisses him on the mouth first.

* * *

Harry feels his brain numb as the alpha takes a step towards him.

Tom’s eyes were dark, and the omega in Harry knew exactly what the alpha’s intentions were. Harry had agreed to do his duty but he did not think they would do it right now. Here. Where Slytherin’s highest ranking officials gathered. Their coupling scent would stay here for hours. This might be why Tom wants to do it here. To send a message. Strong and clear.

Tom has always been strategic, this Harry observed.

From when Harry met him at the gambling house, the game they played consisted of analysis and strategy. It was a wrong move to sit there, Harry thought immediately because Tom was flawless. Harry had to combine his magic and his brain to get some money. And even then Harry decided he would just get a little bit from the man because Harry did not want to risk it too much.

When Harry became tsarina, it was evident that his subjects respected him. Was even afraid of him. Harry only heard rumors of the tsar. The Handsomest Prince in Merlindom, they called him when he was young. Even now, it was evident why he was called so. But Tom also possessed a natural authority that was perhaps bestowed on him by blood. Since infancy, he was expected to lead and perhaps that is what made him such an effective leader. But it was that innate arrogance too, that got him where he was now. His subjects admired and feared him. But he was young and the other kingdoms did not hesitate to invade them now.

Harry’s strength leaves him as the alpha reclaims his mating gland, whine already threatening to let loose his mouth. The alpha lifts him up the table, hips naturally brushing against his as it happens. It’s too much. Harry hasn’t been touched for months. And his alpha was here.

* * *

Tom enters Harry’s bedroom and sees the omega get up to pay his respects.

It’s was purely routinary, of course. It was expected of him. Harry has never slacked in his duties. And Tom wonders if it his attachment to duties that makes his legs open so easily for Tom.

But he was not here for that. Not yet, at least.

Tom needed Harry’s power too. Needed to talk to him where no one else could hear. He grabs the omega by the arm and pushes him forcibly into a secret passage behind one of the closets.

“What can you do with your magic?” He asks the omega.

He feels Harry swallow. “I… I do not know.” He admits. “I never showed it to anyone since my parents told me not to. But… but I burned the house. When I was younger. It was the first time my magic appeared. It was too cold. In the middle of winter. And firewoods were scarce. And the next thing I knew, the house was on fire.”

Fire. Fire like his mother’s.

“And some minor things like you’ve seen at the…” Harry gulps. “At the gambling house.”

"Here," Tom hands him Merope's book of spells. "Practice."

* * *

The tsar was distracted.

There was an urgency in him that was not present before. In the past, he’d been cold and cruel, enjoying battle like a bloodthirsty soldier. But now he was efficient, killed right on aim. He killed with a sense of purpose, an impatience, like he couldn’t wait for the battle to be over when he once reveled in it.

When they make it back to camp, the meeting is over in a few minutes. Tom does not stay to socialize. At first, Regulus thought it was because the tsar needed to rest. He looked refreshed and ready for battle every morning. A healthy glow to his person, well-rested. In good spirits. It was almost as though he had not been fighting for hours the day before, completely drenched in blood and mud.

Regulus had followed him one evening, forgetting to ask a vital question in the meeting. But it was not to his tents the tsar went to. But the taarina’s. Hours of love-making, the guards said. 

The alpha was trying to get the omega pregnant.

* * *

The mating was entirely stiff at first. Cold and detached. Professional. 

Tom would tilt the omega’s head slowly, lightly, and scent. And even when he didn’t admit it to himself, just like that, all the tiredness from war disappears.

Tom would wait for that moment where Harry softened a bit, giving way into his omega instincts.That was when Tom went straight for his bond mark, licking and nibbling until the omega couldn’t hold back the little sounds that he always let out. When that happened, they were entirely alpha and omega. Tom would bite, reclaiming the omega, growling slightly at the delicious scent that Harry would give off. Pushing the omega down into the bed, the alpha in him getting excited at the utter submission the Harry gave when he instinctively opened his legs and bared his neck. Harry was always so dignified, but beneath Tom’s touch his body grew lewd, tits hard, hole drenched, mouth willingly begging for it when Tom wanted to tease.

He would fuck Harry again and again, taking advantage of the high the omega felt when he was knotted. Right when they could separate, Tom would tease his hole with the tip of his cock until the omega started begging to be bred again, desperately moving his hips against Tom’s dick.

It didn’t matter what position Tom fucked the omega—on his back, on his knees, on his side—because all through it all, all his wife Harry could do was mewl deliciously against his ear. 

Power in the battlefield didn’t compare to this. Dominating Harry… righteous, dignified Harry… looking thoroughly fucked by Tom’s own cock.

Tom can imagine Harry now, bouncing on top him desperately, his pink omegan cock bouncing with him, driving Tom mad, making him thrust harder into the omega to see him squirm and keep his balance, cumming instantly. It was incredibly satisfying, especially when Harry started purring while Tom’s knot was inside him. Merlin. 

Tom drives the sword straight into the enemy’s heart.

The sun has went past their heads, already in the west.

Two hours more, then.

* * *

The tsarina was humming.

Ron smiles as he offers his tsarina his afternoon tea and biscuits. He had been in a good mood since the tsar came to his tent every night. They were trying to get pregnant; the tsar has strictly ordered Ron to make sure the tsarina ate properly. But it didn’t seem to matter whatever Ron fed his mistress. Harry was still so thin because the alpha would mate him for hours. Their sheets were absolutely drenched in the morning.

But the tsarina always woke up with a satisfied smile. Even when the tsar was already away.

It was understandable, this was the first time the alpha was always with the omega.

Even when they were sewing, as they were doing now, there was a certain energy that Harry exuded. They were making an infant’s clothes. A royal baby. In the way.

Nobody could finally say anything against his mistress once he got pregnant.

* * *

Tom dresses for the morning as Harry’s assistant, Ron, another omega comes in bearing the tsarina’s breakfast. Tom’s eyes quickly assess his wife’s breakfast; he'd instructed it all to be healthy heavy food, meat and vegetables, with an abundant serving. His wife will be eating for two soon.

“Good morning, Your Highness,” the omega servant remarks, curtsying.

Tom nods curtly, buttoning his shirt. “Be sure to cater to the tsarina’s every order and whim. If I find out he is unsatisfied in any way, you will be punished.”

“Oh, there is no worry for that now, Your Highness,” the omega says as he takes the tsarina’s dirty clothes off the floor. “The tsarina has been in good and healthy spirits since you started sharing his bed.” The servant looks at the tsar, something in his eye that Tom could not read. “He used to cry every night in his sleep, calling his parents’ name.”

* * *

Harry was asleep, long eyelashes touching his cheek, chest rising up and down slowly in even breathing.

Tom leans forward, kisses him lightly on his lips. The omega tasted sweeter. 

He was pregnant, the alpha in him knew. But he was not exactly sure, and Harry was not saying anything about having any symptoms, and Tom hasn't seen any except for the omega's scent. Maybe it was too early to tell. Tom still mated with Harry every night. But he controlled himself, knotting the omega only once. If he were really pregnant, then it would be good of him to rest.

Harry would whine, of course, expecting more, wanting more. But Tom shushed him, and nuzzled him to appease him until he fell asleep.

Tom had a long day ahead of him. The war was taking too much time. They needed to revise their strategies. That damn Dumbledore was making it hard for them to win. Tom extracts himself from Harry’s hold, kissing the omega one last time on the forehead.

“Stay,” the omega says, hand on Tom’s arm, as Tom moves away. His voice small, his eyes slowly blinking as he struggled to open them to the bright light. “Stay, _Alpha_.”

Tom froze. Harry was never so bold after their lovemaking. “I’ll be back this evening.”

Harry’s eyes finally open, looking straight into Tom’s. “Must you go?” Harry’s voice was small, barely loud enough for Tom to hear. The anxiety wafted through the tent. His eyes glisten. “I—Please don’t go. I’m scared.”

Tom gently pushes Harry’s hair out of his face. “There’s nothing to be afraid of. You’re safe here, Harry—“

“No,” Harry says, hand tightening on Tom’s arm. “You’ll go into battle today,” the tears fall. “What if you don’t come back?”

Tom sighs, lays down again to comfort the omega. “Shh,” he rubs his hand on Harry’s back. “Don’t you trust your alpha?” Tom says, letting a smirk show in his face. “I’ll finish this war and return to you.”

Harry moves closer to Tom, pressing his little body against him. “I trust you,” he says seriously, big green eyes serious. “But… but…” And then he starts sobbing, crying into Tom’s chest.

“Alright, shh, Harry,” Tom soothes. “I’ll stay. I’ll stay, don’t cry.”

* * *

It was probably the pregnancy that was making Harry act like this.

He was pregnant, he was pretty sure. He felt it inside him, growing. Harry felt ridiculously happy, finally able to conceive with his alpha. He’d wanted to tell Tom but… something stopped him. Being pregnant meant the alpha would stop coming to him. And the truth is, the baby needed the alpha. That's right. The baby. Harry had been more needy lately, seeking the alpha even in his sleep, waking every now and then to make sure that Tom was still holding him close, inhaling his scent.

Harry had a lot of self-control. But this particular morning, when he felt the alpha move away from him so early in the morning, he couldn’t help but reach out and stop him.

The anxiety. The anxiety was too much. He needed Tom to stay. He needed Tom here because if—

The alpha cradles him as he cries. It was pathetic, Harry knew. If he weren’t pregnant, he would never do this. But there really was something telling Harry that he needed the alpha to stay.

Harry falls asleep, clutching the alpha tightly.

Harry wakes with the loud clanging of armor outside their tent. Tom gets up from their bed and Harry reluctantly lets him go.

“Your Highness,” the guard calls from outside. “Sir Regulus Black is here.”

“Enter,” Tom commands. Harry slips on a robe.

“Sire,” Regulus says, breathing heavily. He was covered in blood and dirt. “Dumbledore—he—” He went down to his knees, Harry sees the tiredness and desperation in his eyes. “Dumbledore went on a rampage.”

Regulus hesitates. 

“And?” Tom asks, as dignified as ever.

“Sire,” Regulus gulps, nervous to be be a bearer of such news. “More than half of our army is gone.”

* * *

“It’s my fault,” Harry whispers, eyes wide in horror. “I told you to stay and your army is slaughtered. Because of me. Their own tsarina... murdered them.” Harry seeks the alpha’s eyes. “Let me go.” Harry says with a clear determination in his voice.

“What?” Tom bites out. “What do you mean let you go?”

“Let me fight.”

Suddenly, the air darkens. Tom moves towards the omega, voice dropping low, threatening.

“Do you think so lowly of me?” Tom hisses dangerously, eyes dark. “You think I cannot turn this battle into our favor? Me? A direct descendant of the first Tsar himself, Salazaar Slyhterin? You think I cannot protect my kingdom, and you, my wife, who is carrying our pups—“

“That’s not what I—“ Harry interrupts before the alpha becomes even more dangerous. Harry too worried to note Tom’s knowledge of his pregnancy and to deny it.

“You’re pregnant!” Tom snarls. “I will not risk you over something so trivial.”

“I can do it with one spell,” Harry says softly, willing the alpha to see reason.

“Our pups—“

“Will be a lot safer growing up in a peaceful kingdom.” Harry says. “They are my children too and I want to do my part in protecting them.” Harry touches the alpha gently, knowing it must be his instinct to protect and his pride that would not let him see reason. “I-I want to be with you.” Harry says. “I want to be your omega, I can be, I want you to use me. Not just to bear children. As your tsarina. As a monarch. The people… they are my people too.”

Tom looks at him, eyes slowly returning to a dark blue color. He takes Harry’s hand and kisses it. “One spell and I will escort you out of the battlefield myself.”

* * *

Harry gives birth to two healthy baby boys.

There was no question about the succession now. No more tittering behind delicate hands and fans as Harry passed by. He has done his highest duty as a Tsarina. Twins, as though Merlin himself has blessed their marriage and Harry’s womb. And if that wasn’t enough, they both looked entirely like Tom—if anyone dared question their legitimacy.

Harry blinks his eyes, he was so tired, both pups were as stubborn as their father, but as he held them in his arms… Harry could only cry. They were so beautiful.

Tom kisses him in the forehead, willing him to sleep. It was over, he heard the alpha whisper. He could rest now.

So Harry did, feeling the alpha take their pups into his own arms.

* * *

Draco watches as their town welcomes the royal couple.

“That’s him.”

“Ah yes, the baron’s son, Harry,”

“Not so pretty, is he?”

“One would wonder how he would catch the tsar’s eye, let alone his hand.” 

Draco stays silent as people gossip around him. It was true. Harry did not have a big dowry nor did he have a pretty face. He was quite plain. His plain black hair and his plain green eyes. He was normal height, normal weight. Nothing took you in. But the tsar looked at him as though he couldn’t quite get enough.

That should have been Draco’s place.

“Rumor has it the omega tricked him into marrying.”

“Isn’t he dumb though?”

“Oh no, the tsarina commands the palace as though he is born into it.”

“And our tsar?”

“Glad that he can finally share his burden with another who enjoys it so.”

Draco clenches his fist as Harry comes closer. Something has changed in the omega. A polishing. A more dignified air. When he walked it was with authority, and perhaps, it is so. He is the tsarina. And no one could take that away from him. Unless he could not bear an heir. And even then, no one was sure if the tsar would set him aside for a new wife. But he did. Twins. As if one successor was not enough, Harry had given birth to a spare too. All in one go.

“We all know what he is,” They all turned to look at Lady Lavander Brown. “It was in his mother’s blood. And now it is in his too.”

“Do not speak of such things,” Draco says, Harry now closer, smiling at him like a mockery. Harry had always been lucky. Lucky to live a normal childhood. And then lucky to be picked by the tsar. Lucky to give birth to twins. Lucky to be given the rare chance to go back home when no tsarina has been given the permission before, to gloat right in front of Draco, Draco who no one knew what to do with when he wasn’t declared tsarina.

“No, we all know, Draco.” Lavander whispers back.

“Know what?” Another asks.

“He’s a _witch_.” Lavander says.

And nobody believed her for a bit because if he really was a witch, then why did he not enchant himself to match the tsar’s beauty?

“Hi, Draco,” Harry smiles. “I hope you are doing well.”

He’s not. He felt like an outcast in his own town. He was expected to be a queen, but he is not. Lesser lords who did not dare speak to him then were acting familiar now. It irked him. He was meant for higher things. He was the most noble omega in this town and now he was forced to marry someone of lower rank.

And now Harry… Harry who was supposed to marry normal…

“Your majesty,” Draco curtsies. There was a time when Harry had to curtsy to Draco. “I am doing as well as I can be.” He lies.

* * *

It was long due, Tom knew.

But their twins were older now and Harry could finally bear to leave them for a while in Ron's trusted care.

The carriage ride is a long one, a week at least. Harry had been more prone to nausea after giving birth. They had to stop for fresh air now and then, letting his tsarina rest under the warm sun.

He was obviously excited though, to go back to the little town that he called home, back to his parents from whom Tom forcibly took him from. Harry was humming and smiling, perpetually in a good mood, even initiating scenting with the alpha when the servants were busy, sitting in his lap and purring before they went to sleep.

But it was the sex that blew Tom’s mind.

Harry was eager, every night, dropping to his knees to suck Tom the moment the tent doors were drawn, trying to take in Tom’s whole length into his mouth, gagging and choking himself out of his own volition. He cried too, when it hit the back of his throat, moaning like an omega bitch, even though he was already a mother.

“Should a mother suck cock like that?” Tom would tease him. But Harry only stood up, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, and pushed Tom into the mattress, straddling him and sliding down into his dick clumsily, falling forward the moment it hit his prostate.

“I am a wife first to my husband.” the omega would say shakily as he pulled himself up, trying to move on top of Tom, pink omegan cock bouncing enticingly, precum glistening at its tip, tempting Tom.

It turned Tom on more than he cared to admit, something that the omega favored doing now, giving the alpha a good view of Harry’s wet cunt taking in his cock. Harry would only last a few minutes before Tom took control, Harry always cumming too fast in that position.

Harry would fall asleep nuzzling the alpha, purrs fading as he succumbed to his tiredness.

Tom often wondered picking Harry as his bride out of spite came to this.

When they finally arrive at Harry’s little town, his face brightens up, looking out the carriage windows excitedly, pointing out and naming all the place to Tom who could only smile indulgently at the tsarina.

When they arrive at his home Harry runs, for a moment forgetting that he is a tsarina, straight into his parents arms. A warm embrace that Tom has never experienced in his life.

Harry shyly introduces him to them, blushing like a virgin when Tom wraps an arm around his waist, as if he didn’t ride the alpha every night.

The relationship between them surprises Tom. His father and his mother was too busy running the kingdom to have time for him. Tom remembers Harry’s servant telling him of the omega crying in his bed when they were newly wed. Harry didn’t cry now so Tom thought he was okay. But seeing him now… he looked so happy. Was he ever that way in the palace?

The family huddles excitedly at the small drawing room, exchanging stories and gesturing wildly with their hands. Their smiles are big and their laughter loud. Something Tom has never seen his wife do in the palace.

Maybe this is where Harry is only truly happy.

Not with Tom. Not with their twins.

But here where there is no one to whisper _'witch'_ behind his back, and no husband to serve, no children to look after.

Why shouldn’t he let his family take Harry? He had done his duty to the kingdom. Nothing could stop Harry. Even Tom could not stop Harry.

Now he could go back to the family he loved.

That night as they sleep in one of the grander inns, Harry does not make a move to mate. Instead, he lies on the bed, contented and tired.

Already, he is slipping away.

Tom sits on the edge of the bed. Harry’s eyes open to look at the alpha.

* * *

He is so handsome, Harry thinks. Years into their marriage and it still takes Harry by surprise. His husband, his alpha, the father to his children… handsome as a god and his in all ways that an omega could possibly own.

But there is a seriousness in his face now that Harry does not understand. Was he not happy to meet Harry’s parents?

“Do you wish to leave the palace?” Tom asks, totally catching Harry off guard.

“What?” What was the alpha thinking? Was he joking? Harry forces out a laugh. “What are you saying, my love?”

“This is your home.” Tom says, face emotionless. Harry panics. What was he saying? They were married. Bonded. Did he—Has Harry only imagined all those times they were happy with each other? “You have no reason to stay with me anymore.”

“Do you hate me?” Harry asks, feeling his eyes well up with tears.

“No, of course not—“

“Then why are you sending me away? Are you punishing me again? Let me go through my heats alone even when we are bonded? I am just another consort to y—“

“But you are happy here.” Tom says.

There’s a pause and Harry searches for a reason why his husband is doing this. He looks at Tom's face, his eyes... and he cannot believe it. Finally, Harry understands. The tsar… his tsar, his alpha… Harry sits up and takes him into his arms. “My love, I am happy with you,” He assures him tenderly. “This was my home. But you and our children are my home now.”

Harry feels Tom relax in his arms.

Harry was tired tonight but he needed it now as much as the alpha needed it. He leans back and pulls the alpha with him.

“I am yours,” he whispers.

They do it slowly this time. Tom taking his time thrusting into Harry. Harry loves it. Loves the way he can feel Tom’s cock slide in and out of him, huge and hard. He moans and the alpha groans.It is much sweeter than what they’ve done these past weeks, when Harry was desperate for him when he was always so close, his scent tempting Harry the whole day they are in a carriage. But now they take their time. When they both go over, Harry kisses the alpha slowly, again and again, until they both fall asleep.

* * *

Harry sits on his own throne, beside the Tsar as he listens to his subjects.

Their twins were being tutored in the next room, as per Harry's request. He couldn't exactly concentrate when the royal children used to be in another palace entirely. But Tom had become more lenient with him after he gave birth to two heirs. They've just gotten back from their trip to Harry's parents, the small town he used to live in. It was good to be back, but even Harry could admit that it didn't feel like home anymore.

He belonged here, beside his husband, Tom patiently listening to his subject's problems and giving proper suggestions and solutions.

It's only been thirty minutes but Harry has been feeling rather... tired. His vision was blurry and his head was spinning.

"Harry!" Tom calls worriedly beside him, his arms wrap around Harry just in time before he falls from his throne.

"Alpha..." Harry calls.

Tom's eyes widen. It wasn't time for his heat yet but—

Harry retches. "I..." He looks up at Tom, a dazed look on his face. "I think I'm pregnant."

**Author's Note:**

> Before you come at me, I also... don't know. HAHAHAHA.


End file.
